Tell Me on a Sunday
by Kyndeyrn
Summary: Hogwarts has been attacked. There are no safe places left in the wizarding world. And to top it all off Harry is forced to reside with Draco Malfoy. HPDM.
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer- ::Starts counting on fingers:: I don't own Harry Potter, any of the characters, or even the title of this story. It's the name of musical by Andrew Lloyd Webber.

A/N: I felt like starting a new fic…so I did. It's rated T for language, slash and possibly violence, I don't really know yet. I seriously doubt it'll go any higher than T. Also, in this fic it's like Half-Blood Prince never happened, just FYI.

**Chapter 1**

Harry sat at a café in London, slowly sipping a cup of tea. He was staring idly out the window beside him, watching the water droplets make intricate patterns on the glass. Outside countless people trudged through the rain, their heads bowed against the downpour, dull umbrellas rising above them glumly. Strictly speaking, Harry wasn't allowed to be here, it was a Tuesday in April and, as he was in his seventh year, he still had classes to attend. At the moment though, he really didn't care. He was bored and frustrated with his life and simply needed to get away. A waiter came over and Harry ordered another cup of tea.

He wasn't sure why he had picked this place to come and think, it had been as good a place as any to get out of the rain, so he had just ducked in. It was a muggle café, dimly lit due to the clouds and only a quarter full, if that. The tea was slightly better than average, hence Harry's second cup, and warm. Slowly Harry's thoughts meandered back to Hogwarts and he was hit with a jolt of guilt when he realized Dumbledore would be worried sick at his disappearance. Harry checked his watch, he had only been gone a couple of hours, maybe no one would have noticed his absence. He snorted, fat chance, after three attacks at the school this year Dumbledore had deemed it wise to have "guards" trailing Harry between classes and during his free time. _And a lot of good they were, _thought Harry, he had been able to sneak out of the castle with relative ease due to his Invisibility Cloak. Everyone at the school would be frantic. Another thought wormed its way into Harry's brain, _What if I don't care? What if I don't care that everyone is worried about me? The only thing I'm good for is getting rid of Voldemort. What if I just left, just left and never came back?_

In the end Harry's better judgment got the best of him. He downed the rest of his tea, threw some muggle money on the table, then stood up, a feeling of foreboding coming over him at the prospect of returning to his once-beloved school. The tinkling of a bell sounded above him as he pushed open the cold glass door and stepped out into the storm. The second his foot hit the pavement before him a loud bang sounded from somewhere down the street. Harry's head whipped around, towards the source of the noise and what he saw almost made him sick. A swarm of wizards in black robes was rushing down the street, yelling madly and shooting spells at everything in sight. He didn't need the second glance or the sight of chilling white masks to confirm his suspicions. Death Eaters.

The street erupted in chaos. Muggles were running left and right, screaming in terror and occasionally pain as they were hit by a Death Eater's curse. Harry dashed into the muddy street, pulling out his wand as he ran. He wasn't sure what he could do, but he knew he had to try something; he was the "Chosen One" after all. Even in the midst of all the terror and blood he managed a grimace at the name. Stupid title wasn't going to do him much if he was squashed by Death Eaters.

He shot a stunning spell over his shoulder toward a masked wizard who was attempting to burn down the café he had just exited. _One down, five billion more to go,_ Harry thought grimly. Two Death Eaters had spotted him felling their companion and they rushed towards him. Calmly, he silently cursed both of them with the first spells that came to his mind. Unfortunately, this alerted five more Death Eaters. He stunned two of them, but the other three were still coming at him at an alarming speed. Not being a particularly stupid wizard, Harry knew when to run. He turned and bolted down the street, slipping in blood and mud and shooting spells over his shoulder as he tore down the emptying street.

Out of nowhere he felt something collide with him, "What the hell?" he managed to gasp before he hit the ground with a thud that knocked all the air out of him. He caught a glimpse of silvery-blonde hair above him as the dark figure rolled off him. He growled as he recognized the pale, pointed face, "What do you want, Malfoy? Trying to kill me yourself, eh?" He yelled as soon as his breath came back.

"Shut up, Potter! Or you'll blow my cover." Malfoy hissed, shoving his pale, dripping hand over Harry's mouth.

Harry spluttered and pushed the other boy's hand out of his face, "Your cover? What?" he asked, more quietly this time.

Draco sighed, exasperated, "I'll explain later, Potter! Right now we just need to get out of here!" And with that statement Malfoy grabbed the other boy and Harry felt the effects of apparition, then they were gone.

The first thing Harry noticed when his feet touched ground, Malfoy's arm still awkwardly placed around his waist, was that the rain had stopped. He opened his eyes, trying to remember when he had shut them, and saw the light from the setting sun filtering through the thick mist that filled the shadowy forest glade where they stood. Both boys glanced down to where Malfoy's arm was situated and he removed it hastily.

"Where are we?" Harry asked, curiously.

Malfoy shrugged, "No idea, Potter. The first time I saw the place we're heading was little less than half an hour ago." He began to walk through the forest and Harry, having no other choice, followed.

"So I'm stuck out in the middle of nowhere with _you_?" Harry said angrily, some of the hate for his old rival returning to him.

Malfoy rolled his eyes, "You know, Potter, it might be smarter to question why I brought you here instead of insulting your only company, but brains never were your strongpoint were they?"

Harry colored, "Fine, Malfoy! Why are we here?" he spat.

"That's better. We're here because a little while ago, while you were traipsing about London, Hogwarts was invaded and captured by Death Eaters."

Harry gasped, and then said spitefully, "So why aren't you there with them, huh? You're one of them, aren't you?"

Malfoy massaged his blonde temples, "No Potter, I am not 'one of them' as you so eloquently put it. I'm a spy working for the Order of the Phoenix. Our headquarters were attacked simultaneously with the castle so we had to establish a new base quickly. The place we're headed towards is the new base we chose."

Questions erupted inside Harry, but he tried to ask them one at a time, "You're a spy? How come I didn't know?"

"Yes, I'm a spy, I just told you that. As to why you didn't know, haven't you learned by now that Dumbledore doesn't tell you every last detail of his plans? You're always so bloody full of yourself!"

Harry seethed at the jibe, but needed his questions answered so he kept his comments to himself "Why did the Death Eaters attack that street I was at in London? How did they know where to find me?"

"They attacked it for that very reason, _you_ were there. They were able to find you for the same reason I was, tracking spells." At Harry's angry look he added, "Don't worry, ours were just for today and I managed to lift theirs right before I apparated you."

Harry felt rather ashamed that two sets of people had been able to spell him without his notice so he changed the subject, "How did the Death Eaters manage to attack the castle and Grimmauld Place?"

"We're still not quite sure of the details, there was an information leak, that much is clear, but we're not positive as to who's behind it. We've got a few suspects, but nothing's been settled."

Harry asked his final questions, the ones that concerned him most, "Was anyone hurt in the attacks? How are Ron and Hermione?" He was so intent on the answers that any hate left in his voice was lost.

"A lot of people were hurt and killed in the attacks; we're still taking a count of the carnage. I have no idea what happened to your little friends. My job isn't to keep tabs on them." He finished with a sneer.

"Then what is your job?" Harry shot back.

"To rescue your sorry neck, Potter! If I wasn't the only one available for the job, then believe me I wouldn't have taken it." Harry was going to come back with a no-doubt snappy remark, but at that moment they stepped into another seemingly-empty glade and Malfoy interrupted him, "Ah, here we are."

"There's nothing here." Harry said bluntly.

"Jeez Potter, seven years in the magical world and you can still only take things as what they seem to be. 'There's nothing here', honestly." He walked a little ways into the glade, pulled out his wand and tapped at thin air. A grey stone house appeared, it seemed small, but by the looks of things it had a basement.

"Is that it? Is making it invisible the only defense they could come up with?" Harry asked, disappointed in his headmaster.

Malfoy looked at him as if he were the stupidest thing on earth, "Of course not, you moron. There are obviously anti-apparation wards and on top of that only those marked with a certain spell can enter. I cast it on you while we were walking, you really do need to be more observant, Potter."

Harry blushed in embarrassment and slight rage, "Shall we go inside then?" He practically spat.

"Ladies first." Malfoy sneered, opening the squeaky wooden door for Harry.

Ignoring the insult Harry pushed past Malfoy and into the building. A plain kitchen met his eyes. It was paneled with wood and the floor was a cold, gray stone. Remus Lupin, Mr. Weasley and Dumbledore sat around the wooden table, one of the few things that furnished the room. The three men were talking urgently but looked up abruptly when Harry and Malfoy entered.

"Ah, Draco," Said Dumbledore in a tired voice, "You're back, good. Now I must return to the students. I'll see if I can get them home."

"Or what's left of them." Muttered Arthur as the door shut behind the headmaster.

Malfoy took a seat at the table and Harry took the only remaining seat next to him. On closer inspection, Arthur and Remus looked more exhausted than Harry had ever seen them, and considering what they all had been through in the last seven years, this was saying a lot.

Remus smiled wearily, "Harry! I'm glad you're safe." He turned to Malfoy, "You too Draco, good job." Malfoy merely nodded.

Harry skipped the introduction and launched into his near-panicking inquiry, "How are Ron and Hermione?"

Mr. Weasley bowed his head, "They were both wounded seriously in the attack. Neither was killed, but they're both at an underground medical treatment center."

"Why not St. Mungo's?

"St. Mungo's was closed in light of the attacks and all the patients were moved to the centers. They're afraid of being invaded and they didn't want to risk it. Can't blame them really."

Harry nodded reflectively, "And everyone else?"

"Almost everyone was killed or wounded. Those remaining will be sent home."

"What can I do to help?"

Remus spoke up, "Basically you are going to go on any missions we think you would be best for. In the mean time you are to stay here"

Harry smiled grimly, he wasn't a lover of inactivity, but at least it was _something_. He vaguely wondered what types of missions he would be sent on.

"And I assume you want me to keep spying?" Malfoy asked coolly.

Remus nodded, "Yes, luckily you haven't been caught yet. If your situation becomes too risky then we'll pull you out, but as for now just keep it up."

Arthur cut in, "It's getting late, and I believe we should all be heading for bed." He walked over to a trapdoor in the far left corner, and pulled it open with some effort. It revealed a long staircase, the lower half of which was shrouded in gloom. He muttered a spell and suddenly the basement was illuminated with the light of about a dozen candles hanging from the walls. It was a small, dingy room containing only two smallish beds and a stack of sleeping bags in the corner.

"Guess what we get?" said Malfoy, peering down into the dimly-lit room and Harry suppressed a groan. He had never really liked sleeping bags.

They all headed down the stairs, yawning, it had been a long day. Harry didn't say much as he laid out his bag on the cold floor (he couldn't tell if it was dirt or stone), he was too absorbed in his own thoughts. He should have known the school was going to be attacked eventually; it couldn't remain the only safe place left in the wizarding world for ever, but a small part of him wished that he had been there during the attack. He knew it was a stupid thought, but he couldn't shake off the feeling that if he had been there maybe, just maybe, he could have done something to help.

A/N: I'm not sure how often I'll be updating this thing once school starts again. I'll try to write as often as possible, but I'm supposed to be working harder on my Algebra this semester so I don't know how that'll go. In the mean time click that little bluish purple button and motivate me!


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: "See I'm Smiling"- The Last 5 Years.

**Chapter 2**

The first thing Harry noticed when he awoke was how sore he was from sleeping on the abominably hard floor; the second was that Draco Malfoy's arm was across his chest. Harry looked over at the other boy with disgust and confusion only to realize that the blonde was still asleep. With a grunt Harry placed his hand on Malfoy's arm with half a mind to push it off and give the Slytherin a piece of his mind, but then it hit him that he didn't really mind the limb, in fact in an odd, twisted way it was kind of nice. He immediately began to beat his mind into a thousand wriggling pieces. He knew he was gay, but Malfoy? That was just insane…and gross…really gross. Harry clenched his teeth and forced himself to go back to sleep. When he re-awoke an hour later Malfoy was gone as was his arm, for some reason this made Harry feel vaguely empty inside.

He trudged up the stairs, stretching his arms and cracking his knuckles. He pushed open the heavy trap door and emerged into to the cabin room, blinking in the light that streamed in through the few sparkling windows, and yawned.

"Well that's appealing." Came Malfoy's sarcastic voice. Not wanting to waste energy coming up with a snappy response, Harry simply flipped him off.

"Harry, I would be most grateful if you would refrain from making obscene gestures in my presence." said an all too familiar voice.

Harry choked in mid-yawn and colored as he saw that it was indeed Professor Dumbledore that had spoken, "Uh…sorry, sir."

Dumbledore's eyes twinkled, "That's quite alright. Now, where were we?" he turned back to the other three at the table, the same group as the night before.

"Death Eater meetings…" Remus prompted.

"Ah, yes, right. Draco?"

"As I was saying before we were, ah, interrupted," he spared a second to shoot a glare at Harry who was now sitting down in a newly-conjured chair and helping himself to some toast before continuing, "There is a Death Eater meeting this Friday night, I assume you wish me to attend?"

Dumbledore nodded, "If you would be so kind."

Draco merely gave him a cold smile of consent. Harry buttered his toast.

Arthur spoke, addressing Harry, "We don't have any missions for you yet. Basically, all you can do is sit and wait until we come up with something for you, practice your spells," he suggested, "Anyway, the two of you are going to reside here. Please do not leave the base unless it's an absolute emergency." He stood and headed to the door, "I wish you all the best of luck. Farewell." He stated then left to go on his no-doubt pre-assigned mission. The door closed with a thump and, as if this were some signal, Remus and Dumbledore stood up simultaneously.

"Where are you going?" Harry asked through a mouthful of toast.

"On other business, I'm afraid." Responded Dumbledore with what might have been a hint of a smile.

"So you two will be here alone." Remus stated the annoyingly obvious.

"Do try to get along, it'll make things much easier." Suggested Dumbledore in a concluding tone.

"Goodbye!" they bid in harmony, and then departed by way of the much-used wooden door.

Harry groaned and poured himself some coffee, it was going to be a long day…

Malfoy looked shell-shocked, "They expect us to stay here alone…without fighting? Are they mad?" he exclaimed more to himself than to the raven-haired wizard across the table from him.

Harry shrugged; he didn't feel much like arguing.

Malfoy continued his ranting, "I mean, honestly, they're expecting miracles! I loathe you, Potter! Loathe you from the very depths of my soul and they…they just expect me to forget all that and just be your best mate or something and just be bloody happy with it all!"

Harry let him go on for a good five minutes before interrupting, "Maybe we can get along, I mean not like be friends or anything like that, but maybe just not hate each other..." he dwindled off into silence. He wasn't sure why he had just said all that, it had just sort of come out. His mind flashed back to Malfoy's arm that morning and how being friends with the blonde might not be so bad after all. In fact …No! He hated Malfoy, hated him, and had so since day one.

Malfoy looked at him as though he were insane, "Impossible, Potter! Has the whole damn world gone mental? Me be friends with you? I'd rather staple myself to the bottom of a bathtub with the water running!"

"Look, maybe we could just start by calling each other by our actual names, I'm Harry and you're Draco. I mean, that's not too hard, is it?" Oh god, he had done it again, said something without having any idea where the words had come from. This was not good…

"Fine, _Harry_," Malfoy's voice dripped with sarcasm and hatred as he practically spat out the name, "Here's my idea to help us "get along": you stay out of my way and I'll stay out of yours. Got it?"

Harry sighed. He didn't bother telling Mal-…Draco that the house was about the size of a tin can and completely staying out of each other's way would be incredibly difficult. He simply nodded and returned to his coffee as the other boy walked away.

Draco stalked to the small trap door as if it were his only escape from horrible torture; he wasn't so sure it wasn't. His mind was reeling. What on earth had he done to deserve this? He grinned slightly, remembering quite a few things he might have done. Before long, though, his thoughts had returned to his current plight. _Maybe it won't be so bad._ A small part of his mind spoke up. He squashed it like a bug. This was going to be Hell.

Draco closed the wooden portal behind him with a thud, leaving him standing on the stairs in pitch blackness. With a careless flick of his wand he lit half the candles. He could feel a killer headache coming on and he didn't want it to be too bright in here. Already he could feel the flickering brightness pound its way into his partially-aching skull. He killed a few more lights then headed down the stairs.

When he reached the bottom he wandered aimlessly over to a corner and sat down, leaning his head against the cool stone behind him. It felt nice, soothing. He closed his eyes and tried to empty his mind of all thoughts, a technique that occasionally helped him with such head pains. He was usually very good at the procedure, but today something seemed wrong. Whenever his mind became painlessly and wonderfully blank a, small unconscious thoughts of the boy upstairs drifted lazily into his head. No matter how hard he tried, he could not dispel these hazy images. His head began to throb harder as he became angrier and angrier at his own consciousness. Rapidly it became almost unbearable; pain was pulsing through his skull, worse than the normal anguish he received with his headaches. He was shaking like a leaf in a storm; his vision began to get blurred and dark around the edges. He couldn't take it any more, it hurt, hurt so bad. Then suddenly, within seconds of him passing out, the pain stopped leaving a panting Draco to wonder exhaustedly what the hell had just happened.

Upstairs Harry was going through similar agony, though he had the privilege of knowing why. Voldemort was angry, very angry, and as usual his emotions were being directed strait to Harry's scar in the form of immense pain. He closed his eyes, he had no choice but to wait until it receded. It always surprised him how abruptly the pain left, one second he felt close to death and the next he was perfectly fine. He rubbed his scar reflectively. The dark Lord's anger probably had something to do with the fact that he, Harry, had not been killed in one of the many attacks. For the hundredth time Harry wondered who on his side could have possibly leaked the information to Voldemort. His first thought was Draco, but for some reason he could not fully make himself believe that the former-Slytherin betrayed them. Underneath his cool exterior, he had seemed as distraught as the rest of them about the attacks. Unconsciously, Harry decided that he wanted to go see the blonde. The conscious part of his mind loathed the idea, but he decided lamely that if they were going to live together they might as well get along. Knowing this was probably not the best of ideas, he headed to the corner of the room where the trap door was located.

When he reached the basement it took him a second to locate the other boy, then a shivering form tucked in a corner caught his eye. Harry walked over to it and found that it was indeed his former rival. He was asleep and shaking, with his knees tucked up to his chest. Harry turned around, perfectly well prepared to let Draco suffer through whatever had befallen him, but his conscious got the better of him. He sighed, he really shouldn't care whether Draco was cold or in pain, he hated the boy for god's sake. He hated him! Nevertheless he cast about until he found a small blanket, and then carried it over to shaking form where he dropped it unceremoniously upon it. Good enough. Harry retread back up the stairs, vaguely wondering what must have happened to reduce Draco to that state.

Draco was still huddled in his corner when he awoke the next morning, the blanket loosely draped over him. He pushed it off, wondering how it had got upon him in the first place. The only other person in the house was Potter… Draco decided he must have been somnambulating again. As he walked up the stairs he remembered the pain that had put him in such an invalid state and flinched, making a mental note to research what exactly had happened to him. One thing Draco couldn't stand was ignorance, especially his own.

He slid into what was becoming his regular seat at the table after pouring himself a cup of coffee. Surprisingly, Harry was already there, Draco usually was up before him. Through breakfast neither of the two said much to the other except for generic required phrases like, "Pass the marmalade."

The rest of the day passed uneventfully. Harry spent it reading up on advanced defense spells, and Draco preparing for the Death Eater meeting that was to take place the following night. The two boys had come to a sort of unspoken compromise, they simply pretended the other didn't exist, that way there was no conflict. They both knew it couldn't last long, but it would have to work for now. Harry went to bed that night thinking that he had never said so little in one day in his entire life.

The next day was Friday; it passed just about as eventfully as Thursday. That is until about ten in the evening when Draco stood up abruptly from the book he was reading (something about magical illnesses) and walked resolutely to the door.

Harry looked up, "Where are you going?"

"Death Eater meeting." Draco said. Harry nodded and returned to the letter he was writing to Ron and Hermione. He wasn't sure how he'd deliver it as he didn't know where the medical center was or even where his owl was, but he figured it was worth a try. There wasn't much else to do.

Draco paused a moment longer before leaving. It's not that he had been expecting Harry to say "good luck" to him, or even "goodbye", but it would have been nice. Draco shot down this thought. He didn't need Harry, he didn't even like Harry. As he walked through the darkness to the edge of the apparition wards, Draco wondered when mentally it had stopped being "Potter" and started being "Harry".

A/N: Sorry it took me so long to get this chapter up, but I can't say I didn't warn you. All I can say is I blame school. Anyway, I know this chapter wasn't very exciting, and I'm not entirely sure that I like it, but I think it was necessary; the next one should be more eventful…and longer, hopefully...::sweatdrop:: Send lots of reviews and make me happy!


	3. Chapter 3

Disclaimer: "Past the point of no return the final threshold, the bridge is crossed, so stand and watch it burn . . . We've passed the point of no return . . ." –The Phantom of the Opera

A/N: Just as a warning, this chapter is kind of violent.

**Chapter 3**

Draco stood in the middle of the cold foggy forest, above him a multitude of stars shown down from a velvet sky, falling upon the mist to make shifting curtains of illumination. All this beauty was lost upon the teen who, in the midst of the trees and stars, suddenly seemed much smaller than he would have liked. He pulled back sleeve of his robes to reveal a burning brand: the Dark Mark.

Draco shuddered slightly as his mind jolted back to when he had received the condemning symbol. At the time he had been fifteen and firmly on the side of the Dark. He had supported Voldemort's (and his father's) ideals yes, but that did not mean he was ready to take the Mark. When he had voiced this to Voldemort at the time he was supposed to receive the brand, his soon-to-be master became furious and threatened to kill his mother if he did not comply with the Dark Lord's wishes. Draco, though furious, had had no choice but to take the mark. A year later, Draco's world was shattered when Voldemort murdered his mother and imprisoned his father after Lucius failed on a raid. It was at that time when Draco joined the Light, not because he was swayed by their beliefs, but because he dearly wanted revenge on the man that had made him a practical orphan.

Draco shivered as a cold night wind brought him back to reality. He touched the scalding design on his forearm and murmured something that was carried away by the breeze. There was a pop that filled Draco's ears as he felt himself being apparated to some unknown destination.

As usual, when Draco's feet hit the ground he had absolutely no inclination as to where he was, but this no longer bothered him. He pulled a white mask out from under his robes and placed it over his face before joining the group of Death Eaters that seemed to have congregated at the center of the room. As he found his place in the circle of somber adults, Draco tried to take stock of his surroundings. It appeared that they were standing in what seemed to be an abandoned warehouse, very abandoned if the wind whistling through the holes in the roof were anything to go by.

They stood there, stalk still, waiting through the small bangs behind them that signified the arrival of their comrades. No one spoke, slowly the circle filled in silence, always in complete silence; Draco decided it was quite eerie. The wind became louder, howling through the gaps of the building like some wounded beast. Minutes slithered by dragging the temperature down as they went. Thunder cracked as lighting flashed through crevasses, a steady tapping began. Water trickled through the roof, dripping freezing water upon the heads of the waiting Death Eaters. Draco tried to block out the cold and hoped he wouldn't have to wait much longer.

His wishes were granted a second later as a crack resounded through the air. At first the assembly believed it just to be another, particularly violent crash of thunder, but then as though controlled by some other force, their eyes all turned slowly to a tall shadowy figure standing in a far corner of the warehouse. It was more animated ink than human flesh, clad in long robes darker than the obscurest midnight. Glowing red eyes shown like blood from a skull-white reptilian face. Lord Voldemort had arrived.

The group suppressed a collective gasp at their master's appearance; it was always quite the shocking experience witnessing the arrival of Voldemort. The Dark Lord glided to the center of the group and stood there for a full minute, looking at each of him minions in turn.

"Welcome, my Death Eaters." He said coldly. They could all sense his anger behind his words.

They remained silent.

He continued in a voice of suppressed rage, "Do you remember the point of the three raids several weeks ago?"

The circle nodded simultaneously.

"Two parts were done well, the taking of Hogwarts and the headquarters of the Order of the Phoenix. I congratulate you. But one vital part is missing; can any of you tell me what it is?"

A murmur so faint it might not have truly existed passed through the group, "_Harry Potter."_

"That's right." Whispered Voldemort, "_Harry Potter_. I clearly stated that I wanted Potter taken dead or alive, but unfortunately I do not see him in either state before me, if fact, I don't see him at all. Can anyone tell me why that is?"

The sound of shuffling robes could be heard as the Death Eaters shifted about nervously. Draco paled behind his mask. _Keep cool!_ He ordered himself.

"No? No one? I believe one of you is lying to me." He hissed terribly.

Draco broke out in a cold sweat as Voldemort's eyes slowly turned their ruby glare in his direction, he could feel them bore into his pupils with contained fury.

"Mr. Malfoy, do you happen to know anything about Potter's evasion from our forces?" came the question Draco had been dreading to hear since his arrival.

"No, Lord, nothing." Draco's voice was steady, but he replied just a little too quickly.

Voldemort advanced on the ground he had gained, "Nothing, Mr. Malfoy? Are you quite sure? Because a few of my Death Eaters have told me the most peculiar thing; they seem to be under the impression that they saw you and Mr. Potter aparating somewhere away from the battle and not directly to me. No why might this be?"

"I don't know, Lord. They could have been mistaken." Draco forced himself to look directly into those cruel eyes, eyes whose light he would have gladly extinguished in a heartbeat.

"They could have been, yes, but I don't believe they are. I guess I'll just have to find out, won't I? _Crucio!_" The curse hit him before he had any time to prepare and, as it was created to do, sent excruciating pain through every fiber of Draco's being.

Though he was no stranger to pain, this was far worse than any agony he had ever endured. Then, as suddenly as it had begun, it stopped, leaving a quivering Draco in its wake. He looked up from where he had fallen on his hands and knees and met the violent gaze of his tormentor. Voldemort smiled, a lipless grimace, and, with a flourish of his wand, said something Draco couldn't hear. Instantly he felt intense pain in his right shoulder and looked down to see crimson beginning to heavily soak his robes. Voldemort repeated the spell and Draco's side was torn open.

"Tell me where Potter is!" screamed the Dark Lord.

Draco shook his head slowly; he was already beginning to feel weak from the massive blood loss. Voldemort snarled and cast another spell causing his hapless victim to rise into the air and be thrown against the back wall with jarring force before hitting the ground with a thud. His mask was thrown from his face due to the impact. It landed with a clack and skidded to stop at the feet of Voldemort. The Dark Lord stepped on it, cracking and shattering it beneath his booted foot. The desire for revenge began to pump through Draco, cold and hard as steel, replacing the blood flowing freely from him that stained the wall behind him with brutal scarlet.

"This is my last ultimatum." Said Voldemort, suddenly cool and final, "Tell me where Potter is and I'll let you live though it's more than you're worth, filthy spy!"

Draco wasted neither time nor vital energy with petty words. He grasped his wand in his pocket and pulled it out with a bellowed stunning spell. He felt even the simple spell take a great toll on his body and with the last of his depleted energy forced himself to aparate, thanking whatever God happened to be out there for the lack of anti-aparation wards.

Draco left the warehouse and, a second later, hit the forest floor and took off running, trying to ignore the stabbing pains in his shoulder and side. He managed to overcome the overwhelming exhaustion for a few minutes, before it began to become too much. His pace slowed as he staggered through the mist, branches catching his robes and tearing his flesh. The moon and stars looked down at his pitiful lurching form, mocking him through the night. As his vision began to blur and darken, his breathing grew more labored, and his limbs slowed and felt like lead he knew he wouldn't make it much longer. He stumbled into a clearing, the world spinning madly around him.

He feebly waved his still extended wand around before him and by some twist of fate it managed to make contact with the invisible stone. The cabin appeared in front of him and he dragged himself to the door, grasped the handle, pushed it open and collapsed inside.

Harry, for some reason unknown to even himself, had decided to stay up and wait his new house-mate. He hadn't been quite sure what he was going to say to the blonde when he arrived "home" to find Harry still awake, but he had decided he'd cross that bridge when he came to it. He had spent most of the evening reading old Playbills he had found lying around until around eleven thirty when he had been struck by a massive headache. The pain had lessened from when it had first hit, but had fluctuated and left Harry feeling rather weak. He had just decided to go to bed and forget Draco, when the object of his thoughts had stumbled through the door and collapsed in a bleeding heap.

Harry rushed over to the fallen boy, terror griping his throat as he saw blood oozing from Draco's robes. He flipped the body over and grew more panicked at how white and pale Draco had become. He felt for a pulse and let out a relieved breath when a faint, but existent thumping met his hand. He carried the invalid over to a couch and placed him carefully upon the padded surface. Harry was no expert at medical treatment, so he simply did the best he could, wrapping the two wounds to staunch the blood flow and covering Draco with blankets to make him comfortable.

_Dumbledore_, thought Harry, _I need to contact Dumbledore._ He had no idea when the headmaster would be returning or even where Hedwig was. He began to panic again when a sudden rational thought hit him; Draco's Eagle Owl. The creature had been kept downstairs since their arrival with Draco letting him out only at night in order to prevent others being able to find the HQ by tracking the owl. Harry rushed downstairs, praying that Draco had forgotten to let the owl out tonight.

Fortune was on Harry's side in the form of a cruel looking beady eyed owl. Harry bolted over to the cage, gritted his teeth, opened the door and grabbed the bird. Immediately the vicious raptor began to screech and tear Harry's hand to shreds with a razor sharp beak and talons. Harry flinched, but continued to hold the bird firmly as he went back upstairs. The second the creature saw his wounded master, though, it began to calm down and allowed Harry to scribble out a quick note and tie it to his leg.

Harry strode over to the door, holding the bird. He spared yet another quick worried glance in Draco's direction before opening the door and releasing the owl into the night. He watched the creature circle in the starry sky, catching the updrafts, before flying off into the sunrise. And Harry stood there, watching liquid gold spill over the western sky, never before feeling so helpless.

A/N: Yeah, a got sudden inspiration for this chapter Thursday night and am only just now posting it. I rather like it. Thanks to everyone who reviewed last chapter! Um…keep reviewing lots and lots::hopeful look::


	4. Chapter 4

Disclaimer: There's a fine, fine line between a lover and a friend; There's a fine, fine line between reality and pretend…" –Avenue Q

Warnings: Slash, Character Death

**Chapter 4**

The golden sun rose over the forest behind a thick layer of clouds, bringing with it an exhausted and worried Harry Potter. He had sat there, and continued to sit, next to the wounded Draco, listening to his breathing become shallower by the hour. Every so often he'd change the bandages when they became too soaked through with blood, but for the most part he just sat. He tried remembering all the good times he had had with Draco, but it soon became apparent that he could count these on one hand. Still, he managed to relive them for the best part of an hour.

Then, as the hours of the murky day dragged on, small memories began to worm their way to the front of Harry's sleep deprived mind. They flashed before his eyes without him paying them any real attention, eventually though, he began to examine them. The images all seemed to be of Draco, but in a different way, a different light than how Harry had always seen the other boy. The blonde was happy in all of them, genuinely cheerful, not smirking or sneering, but actually smiling. Harry had never noticed it at the times the memories had been engrained into his anamnesis, but Draco had a really nice smile, _really _nice. Seriously, it was enticing enough to make Harry's heart melt. He had always had that smile, Harry realized, he had just never noticed it before.

Pictures continued to flood Harry's mind. Wonderful pictures that Harry would have gagged at before. Or would he…? There was a fine, fine life between love and hate after all, a practically non-existent line. The half-memories continued to give him resolve, a strength of some identifiable kind, and so, as Harry watched the deathly pale boy in front of him to the silent tune of countless radiant images he slowly, ever so slowly, fell in love.

The images and memories began to fall away to scenarios created by Harry's fatigued and infatuated mind. The were extravagant things, primarily featuring Harry going to great efforts and through impossible trials to save Draco's life with the Slytherin valiantly pulling through and thanking Harry with passionate kisses and promises of eternal love and devotion. Harry was rather enjoying these until the cursed rational part of his mind alerted him to the horrible fact that he had succumbed to his worst fear. _Oh shit!_ Harry became suddenly panicked. _No, no, no, no, no! This can't be happening! I can't be in love with Draco! I can't be!_ Frantically he tried to find a distraction from his truly horrid dilemma, his eyes landed on Draco's blood stained bandages and he decided it might as well be time to change them again.

He got up and wobbled into the kitchen with a yawn. On his way he happened to glance out the window; what he saw made his heart skip a beat. A man was walking toward the house. Another glance, however, healed Harry's frayed nerves as he sighed in relief. It was Dumbledore. He looked tired as if he had only just received the owl moments before.

The door burst open, revealing the former headmaster's tall frame. Harry had never been so glad to see the man in his life. With only a slight glance at the powerful figure and sharp intelligent eyes, Harry knew this was the man that could save the boy he had so recently fallen in love with. _Had it really been that recent?_ Questioned a small part of Harry's mind that he had tried ever so hard to ignore, _or have I always been in love with him and just hadn't realized it until now. _

Dumbledore spared only a short glance at Harry before striding over to the invalid. He quickly cast a blood-replenishing spell, and almost instantly Draco returned to his normal color. Harry made a quick mental note to learn that spell. It would definitely prove useful in the future. After a few moments and a few more spells Draco's breathing eased and he appeared to enter a calm and peaceful sleep.

"That should do it." Muttered Dumbledore to himself with a grim smile, "He'll be a tad bit weak when he wakes up, but he should pull through."

"Thank you!" Harry exclaimed sounding far too relieved for someone that had just been informed that his arch-rival would live. Dumbledore seemed to catch his tone and raised an inquisitive eyebrow. Harry forced himself not to blush and tried to recover quickly, "Uh…it would get lonely here without him." He supplied feebly. Dumbledore's eyes twinkled, but he didn't question Harry's statement.

"It seems Mr. Malfoy has been discovered to be a spy." Dumbledore was suddenly grave.

Harry could only nod and bite his lip.

"Since this is the case, our plans have changed. You and Draco will be partners on all upcoming missions, when he recovers that is. Basically these will include being emissaries for the Order. You will travel all around the world and meet with certain important wizards in the hopes of getting them to join our cause. In the mean time, you will train any troops who with to join the Order in certain basic defense spells."

Harry nodded, trying to contain his excitement at the prospect of seeing Draco so much. No! He was not supposed to be happy about this! Draco was practically his enemy! The last of the internal battle raged fiercely within Harry, but eventually his romantic side won out. He was giddily happy.

Dumbledore was wearing a peculiar expression, probably due to the fact that he had just seen Harry's face flash through a wide variety of emotions in a matter of roughly ten seconds. "Good, well, I'd like you to owl me as soon a Draco fully recovers so you both can begin your duties. Oh yes, speaking of owls, Draco's should return shortly…Ah yes, here he is." The mal-tempered eagle owl flew through the still open door as if on cue and landed on the couch by Draco's head, glaring violently at the other two inhabitants of the room, daring them to approach. "Vile creature." Said Dumbledore happily. "Well, I'm afraid I must depart. Ta ta!" And with that he departed, leaving Harry alone with the unconscious Draco once more.

Having nothing better to do, Harry made himself some toast. Then, he sat and watched Draco. He was so pleasant while he was sleeping, without that awful self-righteous sneer on his face. After about ten minutes of watching the blonde, something truly dreadful hit Harry; as much as he was beginning to love Draco, Draco most certainly did not love Harry. This fact cut brutally through the teen's heart, but was quickly removed by the foolishly hopeful side of Harry's brain. He had just contributed to saving Draco's life, hadn't he? Maybe they could at least be friends…

While Harry was falling in love, Draco was undergoing a similar, unconscious epiphany. His brain was muddled from the ordeal he had just been through, but foggy dreams still managed to penetrate his worn out mind, all of them showing him one, rather painful fact. Harry had never truly been mean to Draco without provocation. Every single time they had gotten into a fight it had been Draco's fault. Why was that? Why was Draco so intent on being mean to Harry? The hard fact hit him like an anvil. Love. Ever since day one he had been in love with Harry.

No. It couldn't be. This revelation angered Draco to no end. He viewed love as a weakness, and one thing Draco could not stand was vulnerability. He could not be in love and the fact that he was only made him hate the other boy more.

Draco woke sometime during the following night. Harry had fallen asleep in a hard chair beside the couch on which Draco was stationed, just the sight of him brought back the realization that he had experienced while unconscious. Emotion poured into Draco and he couldn't decide if he wanted to kiss the other boy or slap him. He settled for neither, instead simply sitting up and pushing the blanket off of himself.

His movement woke his sentinelsentinel who blinked groggily, then smiled, "You're awake."

"Yes." Half-snarled Draco, fury winning over the love inside him.

Harry drew back in the anger in Draco's voice, his heart wounded, "Um…how are you feeling?"

"Fine." Snapped Draco.

Harry was hurt and annoyed by the blonde's attitude, "Hey, I just saved your life you know!" Not entirely true, but close enough.

The news struck Draco like a blow between the eyes, "You did?"

Harry was letting his temper get the better of him, "Yeah! If it hadn't been for me, you wouldn't be here right now!"

"Wha-?" Suddenly the memories of the Death Eater excursion returned to him and he groaned, "Shit!" he swore. "I failed..."

Harry felt his anger melt at the forlorn look on the other's face, "Look, it's ok, I've talked to Dumbledore, he's got other assignments for us."

This seemed to cheer Draco up a bit and he sat up further, wincing, "God, I'm sore."

"Duh. Hey, if you're feeling better in the morning I'll owl Dumbledore and-" He was cut off by a sudden slamming sound. Both heads whipped around and their gaze fell upon a thoroughly bedraggled Remus Lupin.

The werewolf launched into a frenzied speech without preamble, "Harry, Draco come quickly! We think we've discovered who leaked the information that led to the attacks! You may not like it…" Harry bolted up and Draco followed slowly, still aching.

They proceeded out the front door and group apparated with Remus as he was the only one who knew where they were going. They appeared on the side of windswept hill. Clouds shifted continuously above them in purple, grey and yellow patterns. The sun had already set here, the light scarring the sky with blood-red cuts the only remaining sign of its existence. Remus pulled out his wand and tapped it seven times on a small boulder nearby. It melted away, revealing a small tunnel, its smooth sides marred with pegs.

Remus practically leapt down the hole leaving the two teens to follow at a slower pace. As soon as Harry's eyes adjusted to the dim light he knew where he was. Though he had never been in one before it was apparent that this was a temporary Medical Center. Beds were stationed all along the back wall, but the activity around the one in the far left corner caught Harry's interest. Dumbledore, Arthur, Lupin and Madam Pomfrey stood around it, all with bated breath.

Harry and Draco joined the crowed and looked down into the bed, what he saw made him intake air sharply. Ron, paler than Harry had ever seen him, was upon it, his head swathed in gruesomely bloody bandages. He was breathing heavily and trying to gasp something out, "I'm sorry…so sorry…He…He threatened to kill my family if…if I didn't do it."

"What?" panicked Harry, he couldn't believe what he was hearing, "Ron?"

Ron's now dull eyes began to fill with tears, "Harry?"

"Ron? What? Are you ok?"

The injured boy tried to sit up, but fell back in pain, "No…Harry, they got me…they got me pretty good. I'm not long for this world."

"No, Ron!"

"Harry, be quiet, he's trying to say something." Whispered Lupin.

"They told me if…if I told anyone, they'd kill me…and Percy. They…they had him captive…Still do I think...I had no choice…I'm so sorry."

"Ron, you didn't!" yelled Harry, "You didn't tell the Death Eaters…"

"I'm sorry Harry…so sorry…Tell everyone…I'm sorry." He gasped one final breath of air before sighing and leaning back into his pillow.

"He's dead." Choked Madam Pomfrey with an air of finality.

Harry felt his body go numb. This couldn't be happening, it just couldn't. Arthur was sobbing quietly and even Hermione, who Harry saw was sleeping on the bed next to Ron's, looked in a glummer sleep than the normal unconscious form. The raven-haired wizard backed away toward the entrance of the center, tears finally welling up in his emerald eyes. His mind was buzzing, this had to be a nightmare, it couldn't be real, it couldn't be happening.

He felt a hand on his shoulder and turned to see Lupin's sad eyes looking into his, "Come on, Harry, let's go."

Harry felt himself being led out of that damnable hole, barely aware of Draco's presence following him. He arrived back at the headquarters a second later and collapsed on the couch, shivering. His world was falling apart. Ron, his best friend in the entire known universe, had betrayed them all to the Death Eaters. Painful reality crushed into Harry again and again and there was nothing he could do to stop it.

Draco let his instincts guide him. He sat next to the shell-shocked teen and put his arm around him. Harry leaned against him, holding on to the other boy as if he were his last lifeline. Draco stroked his black hair and slowly, ever so slowly, leaned down and kissed him lovingly, hopefully. Harry kissed him back desperately and as he did so felt all the emotion within him slide away as a blank sort of bliss washed over him.

A/N: Sorry I haven't updated this story lately. Life has been kinda stressful. Anyway, hope you liked the chapter, review if you did and, heck, review even if you didn't. Thanks. Until next time,

-Kyndeyrn


	5. Chapter 5

Disclaimer- "Who wouldn't be happier? So I couldn't be happier, Because happy is what happens When all your dreams come true, Well, isn't it? Happy is what happens, When your dreams come true!" –Wicked

Warnings- Slash

**Chapter 5**

Harry woke up sometime later, his mind wonderfully blank. Night cloaked the atmosphere about him, soothing warm darkness. Slowly it hit Harry that it was not the simple lack of light that was providing him such comfort and warmth, but more so the body that was sprawled across him. Still groggy, Harry wondered why there was another being on top of him, not that he was complaining, mind you, it was rather nice…wait…what the crap! Harry blinked and rubbed his eyes, nope, he wasn't imagining it, why the hell was Draco Malfoy on top of him? Memories of last night flooded back into his mind, successfully waking him from his shocked state. Ron. No! Ron had betrayed them…and died. And Draco. Draco had kissed him…

A mixture of emotions pounded inside Harry, building up until he feared they would erupt and painfully spill out of him. Ron…But last night, with Draco, last night had felt so right. His heart beat loudly inside his chest as he tried to decide what to do next. He could push the other boy off of him, a fight would probably commence and I wouldn't be warm anymore, Harry's groggy mind commented thoughtfully. In the end Harry decided just to go back to sleep.

When he awoke once more it was light out and, with the absence of darkness, came curiously the absence of warmth. Harry yawned and looked up, finding the reason of his sudden regaining of consciousness. Someone was knocking at the door, a someone that was revealed to be Dumbledore when Draco, fully dressed and looking more alive than he had the previous day, answered it.

"Good morning!" said the old wizard cheerfully, or attempting to be cheerful, for later Harry saw a certain sadness in the old man's eyes.

"Morning." Responded Draco stiffly, yet quietly, clearly he had not forgotten last night.

"Ah, I have not woken you I hope?" Inquired the former headmaster, peering past Draco into the room.

"Not at all." Yawned Harry, "Er, I was just getting up."

"Splendid!" beamed Dumbledore falsely. He then strode into the kitchen and conjured a light breakfast which would barely be touched by any of the odd trio. The two younger wizards sat across the table from each other, acting as physical foils to one another; Draco, cool, composed and neatly groomed and Harry, looking tearstained, depressed and rather as though he had just emerged from the grave instead of a bed, or in this case, couch.

"Draco," began Dumbledore seriously, "How do you feel, after your, ah, ordeal?"

"Much better. Thank you."

"Good, well enough to leave tomorrow?"

"What?" gasped Harry, suddenly awake, "No! He can't leave tomorrow; he was at death's door just yesterday! No, sir, he's definitely not ready!"

"Silence, Potter." Demanded Draco sending Harry his usual sneer, well, usual, but there was something different about his eyes, Harry could not place it before Draco spoke once more, "I am capable of judging my own health." He then turned to the ever patient Dumbledore, "Yes, I should be fully recovered by tomorrow."

"Excellent. And you Harry?"

The black haired boy could only nod, stunned, wondering what was going on.

"Very good. Now in light of the information provided to us by the late Ron Weasley," he briefly inclined his head towards Harry who had flinched ever so slightly, "We, the Order that is, have decided to put together a rescue mission for Percy."

"And you expect us to lead the mission." Asked Harry in a tone that clearly stated he already knew the answer. He looked up, a bit stunned when the elder wizard shook his head quickly.

"No Harry, you and Draco here…are the mission. That is, it will just be the two of you."

Harry's eyes grew a tad bit wider, "So you expect Draco, who has barely recovered from a life-threatening attack, and me to lead a raid through a billion and five Death Eaters to save Ron's good for nothing brother?"

"I have the utmost confidence in you."

Harry couldn't think of a response to this so he simply sat back in his chair and muttered, "Well, this is a lot different from the emissary missions that you said you'd be sending us on…"

Dumbledore nodded sadly, "Things change."

"That they do." Draco murmured. A bolt of curiosity shot through Harry; was his statement simply in reference to the mission, or…

"Splendid." Said Dumbledore with an air of finality, "I trust you both can apparate?"

The two in question nodded.

"Then here's a map directing you to the location we believe he's being held. Fortunately, it's far away so we're not sure if they've received news of Draco's betrayal yet." Though there was no hint of accusation in his voice, Draco colored.

Meanwhile, Harry was looking over the map, "But the location, it's in America." He gasped.

"Quite." Stated Dumbledore.

"What's the matter, Potter? Afraid of apparating over seas?" Sneered the blonde.

"Of course not." Responded Harry coldly, wondering why Draco was acting like this, so cold after such a warm night.

Dumbledore plowed through their conversation, "And Draco, you possess two complete Death Eater uniforms?" Draco barely had a chance to nod in response before the other wizard cut him off, "Good, I expect you both to be out the door at promptly seven tomorrow morning. Farewell and good luck to you both." And with that he stood and swept out the door.

The second the door had clicked shut behind the tall old man, Draco grabbed Harry by the shoulders, pulled him close, and kissed him rather fiercely. With a cry of shock Harry pulled away.

"What the hell was that?!" shouted Harry, more surprised than anything.

Draco seamed to take his stunned reply as anger and, in the true Malfoy fashion, began shouting back at him, "Well what do you expect me to do, Potter?! I mean seriously, you were all over me last night! How was I supposed to know that you didn't have feelings for me? That you just needed something to make out with to kill your grief? I mean-"

Harry then abruptly cut off his rant by crushing his lips against the other boy's, quite the effective way to shut someone up, really. Needless to say they enjoyed themselves for the next hour or so until a breathless Harry decided they probably should prepare for their venture the next day. Draco, although a little irritated at having to stop, agreed.

"So you're gay then?" Asked Harry casually as Draco rummaged around to find extra Death Eater attire.

"Bi, actually." Responded Draco, throwing Harry a mask, "Here, try this on."

Harry did so, "A bit tight, but it'll do. So when'd you realize it then?"

"Last year, when I was dared to kiss Blaise at a party. He really wasn't all that bad…" Draco said thoughtfully.

Harry made a gagging sound, "Gross! Too much info!"

Draco shrugged, "Can't deny it."

"That's still gross. I mean, he's an ewwy Slytherin."

The other boy cocked an eyebrow, "And what exactly am I?"

"True…well you're not _that _ewwy at least."

"Glad to hear it."

The rest of the day passed in similar conversations as the two prepared themselves for the mission the following day. All previous animosity was shattered between them and by the end of the day they were chatting as though they had been friends their whole lives. The packed sparingly, only bringing their wand, some extra money, and Harry's invisibility cloak which they managed to conceal beneath the voluminous Death Eater robes. Evening eventually fell and with it came a knock on the door.

"I'll get it." Called Harry. He had been expecting Dumbledore or Remus and was quite shocked to see the youngest of the Weasleys at his doorstep, "Ginny, hi, what are you doing here?"

"Just thought I'd stop by, considering what happened last night and all." At these words Harry felt a pang of guilt reverberate through him; in light of his new relationship with Draco he had all but forgotten the death of his best friend.

Ginny stepped inside. Under the light Ginny's eyes looked red and puffy and her face was tearstained. "Um…Have a seat." Suggested Harry, gesturing towards the armchair by the fire. Ginny instead sat next to Draco on the sofa, very close to Draco, too close in Harry's overprotective opinion. Draco didn't comment on the proximity. Harry took the armchair.

"So, I hear you guys are leaving tomorrow." The redhead sniffed, letting her arm brush against Draco's casually. Draco looked startled and rather uncomfortable, but didn't move. Harry bristled.

"Yes, we are." Nodded the black haired boy stiffly.

"Be careful." Ginny sighed then leaned her head on Draco's shoulder, closing her eyes.

Harry bit his lip, "Ginny, you look tired. Would you like some tea?" he asked through clenched teeth.

"No, I'll be on my way shortly. Just wanted to wish you luck." The girl, in fact, did not seem in any particular hurry to 'be on her way', if anything, she seemed to be ready to settle in for the night.

"Right well, thanks for stopping by. It's getting late and Draco and I must be off to bed, big day tomorrow!" The blatantly jealous wizard declared quickly, practically pulling Ginny to her feet. "Glad you could come, see you around." With that he practically pushed her out the door.

Next he whirled around on the blonde who was smirking from his place on the couch, "What was that?" he asked, seething.

Draco laughed, "Funny, you never struck me as the possessive type. She's had a crush on me all year, didn't you know?"

"No, I didn't. And why, may I ask, did you not do anything about that dreadful display?"

"Her brother just died last night, I felt sorry for her."

"I see." He had calmed down a bit now.

"You really are a dreadful liar, you know." Said the blonde thoughtfully.

"What do you mean?"

"'It's getting late', Harry, it's only eight."

"Anything to get her off you."

"Poor girl."

Harry glared at him, "Bed time."

The other boy stood up and kissed him sharply, expelling the remaining thoughts of resentment in Harry's head. "Right. Bed time."

Harry lay awake for quite a while, listening to the steady breathing beside him. It had been quite a, well, interesting day, definitely unexpected. He worried slightly about the venture they would undertake in the morning, he had just found happiness and was not eager to lose it again.

A/N: Sorry it took me so long to get this chapter out, about three months I believe, and it's not even that long…Um, well, anyway, school's out now, as I said in my fic, What Might Have Been, so I should (should being the operative word here) be writing more. I'm only going to be somewhat busy what with marching band and watching Dawson's Creek at every available moment (yeah, yeah I know the show ended five years ago). A belated thanks to those who reviewed last chapter. Keep it up!

-Kyndeyrn


	6. Chapter 6

Disclaimer- "No more feelings. Time to shut the door. Just…No more." –Into the Woods.

Warnings- Mild Slash, Mild Violence

**Chapter 6**

Needless to say, Harry awoke quite quickly the following morning. As it is with most nights after action filled days, his dreams had been wild and frantic, though not bad per say. As a result, it took him several moments to allow the events from yesterday to re-enter his mind. He mentally sorted through them, a happy sort of grin plastered on to his face. With a yawn he turned over and prodded Draco sharply in the small of his back. His victim groaned tiredly, but did not stir. Harry poked him again and this time narrowly dodged a flying pillow that had been set on a crash course towards his head.

"No need for violence!" Harry lectured cheerfully.

Draco mumbled something thankfully incoherent and shot another pillow in his chipper room mate's direction. In the end, though, Harry succeeded in dragging a less-than-bright Draco Malfoy out of bed.

"Why do we have t' get up so early?" Draco muttered, eyes still half closed.

"Dumbledore's orders! What's the matter? I thought you liked getting up early?"

"Are you kidding?" Remarked Draco, regaining his trademark sarcasm, "The only reason I'm even half alive in the mornings is because of coffee."

Harry conjured a pot of luke-warm coffee and levitated it over Draco's head, then promptly up-ended it, pouring the liquid over the protesting blonde.

"What was that for!?"

"For being disagreeable this morning," Harry said happily.

"I'm disagreeable every morning!"

"Ah, but you don't generally chuck pillows at me every morning, do you?"

Draco chose to ignore this little statement, instead asking, "Why are you so bright this morning?"

His "friend" shrugged, "Just happy I guess. Now go get ready, we're leaving in fifteen minutes."

They ended up leaving five minutes late due to the time it took to clean up the coffee mess, but Harry wasn't complaining. They now stood shivering in the early morning breeze, cabin locked securely behind them. Harry pulled out the map that he had received from Dumbledore the previous day.

"It seems the location is in the Midwestern Unites States. Iowa?"

Draco made a face.

"What?"

The blonde rolled his eyes, "Apart from History of Magic, Iowa is the most boring place on the planet."

"Oh, I'm sure it can't be that bad…"

"Just watch. I had to vacation there once with my mother to see some of her family, not pretty."

"Ah, well it seems that this is place we're looking for," said Harry, pointing to a place on the map that Dumbledore had circled, so what do you say we apparate ten miles outside of it?"

"Sounds good, let's go then."

Harry had never apparated this far before but, all in all, he didn't think he did that bad. Sure he missed his location by about ten states and ended up somewhere in Arizona in the middle of a group of obnoxious looking teenagers who were talking loudly about musical theatre, but he hit the spot dead on during his second attempt and managed to cover up his lateness to Draco by saying he had tripped right before apparating.

"Right well, I'm here now," he concluded hastily.

"Right," sneered the other boy, "And as you can see, 'here' happens to be the closest tangible thing to nowhere."

As he looked around, Harry had to admit that Draco was right. All that seemed to be around them for countless miles was corn. Insane amounts of corn.

"Well, let's get a move on!" exclaimed Harry, and then promptly started off in the wrong direction.

Draco grabbed him by the back of his barrowed Death Eater robe, "All this happiness is going to your head. I'll lead."

As they walked Harry decided that, if not for the apparation wards that were no doubt in place, they could have apparated with in twenty feet of the place and been just fine. They saw absolutely no one during their trek. The sun moved slowly overhead, causing Harry to sweat uncomfortably under the accursed itchy robe. Bloody Death Eaters. Bloody Voldemort. He felt his good mood rapidly depleating. Suddenly, he stepped wrong and a rock flew out from under his foot, causing him to hit the ground in a rather painful fashion.

"Damn!" he swore loudly.

Draco turned and pulled him to his feet with a smirk, "Good mood gone?"

Harry muttered angrily in response.

Draco laughed and kissed him abruptly. "Back yet?"

"Just about," came Harry's shocked response.

Draco kissed him again.

"Much better."

"Good. Oh, and just to let you know, we're here."

And here they were, wherever "here" happened to be. As with the cabin, Harry didn't see anything that even hinted at a magical location. All there seemed to be was a barren patch of dirt.

"Invisible?" The black haired boy guessed.

"Try again." 

Suddenly it dawned on him. "Underground!"

"Bingo."

"But how?"

"Trapdoor, probably, help me look."

The kicked around in the dust for a bit until Harry stubbed his toe on a protruding object. It rolled over and hit the ground with a metallic thump. "Found it." Exclaimed Harry through clenched teeth. He reached down to pull the handle, but Draco stopped him.

"Wait." The blonde pulled out his want and silently preformed a spell.

"What-"

"Lifting the intruder alarms, you can open it now."

Harry did so with some effort, the hinges squeaked and protested, but eventually gave in with a groan.

"Must be a back entrance," commented Draco, "It seems unused."

"All the better."

They climbed down a rickety staircase, stopping once when a step gave out beneath Harry's weight. "Blasted thing!" he cursed as Draco hoisted him out by his armpits. The bottom found them in what once might have been a storeroom, though now it seemed thoroughly out of commission. Before venturing further Harry had the bright idea of donning the masks they had brought along, uncomfortable as they were, they were highly necessary.

They forced themselves through another door and came out in a deserted hallway. Quietly they made their way down it, looking for any door that might hide a prisoner. A door to their right opened suddenly and a large cloaked man stepped out.

"Hey!" he shouted, "What are you doing here?"

Draco quickly whipped off his mask.

"Oh, it's just you Malfoy. Who's the other one?"

"New recruit," Draco lied smoothly.

"What do you need?"

"Assignment pertaining to the prisoner that's being kept here; I have orders to bring him back to our Lord for questioning," Harry raised his eyebrows under his mask, impressed by the blonde's lying abilities.

"Of course, right this way."

The Death Eater led them through a series of hallways and coridores, apparently the base was much bigger than the two had originally thought. The stone around them was frightfully dull and each passageway began to look the same to Harry, still he tried to memorize the path in case they had to make a hasty escape.

At long last their guide stopped in front of a solid oak door. Soundproof, Harry though with a slight shudder.

"In here," motioned the Death Eater with a slight bow, handing Draco the keys.

Harry followed Draco into a small, dank room. The floor was cold stone; same as the walls and, on closer inspection, Harry found the dank gray to be splattered with something that looked horribly like blood. Harry didn't see him at first, pale and huddled in the corner; his ragged robes blended in with the granite behind them.

"Percy!" Harry gasped. He was a terrible sight, oozing cuts marred his exposed skin and his hair was blotched and matted. Dark circles could be seen around dead, hollow eyes, standing out painfully against the chalk white flesh.

The corpse-like face looked up in surprise, "Harry?" Came the cracked, rough voice.

"Yeah it's me," he lowered his tone to barely above a whisper despite the solid walls and door that surrounded them, "Look; we've come to get you out of here."

The beginnings of hope lighted in the lifeless eyes, "Ron? Did Ron send you?"

Draco and Harry traded worried glances. "Um…yeah." Harry half-lied, Ron after all had given them the information. Besides, Percy already looked like one good breeze would blow him into the grave, so certainly the news of a death in the family wouldn't do him much good.

The red-head's eyes were shining, "Good old Ron, always knew I could count on him! How is he?"

"Um, Percy is it?" Interrupted Draco, clearing his throat, "Not to be rude, but we really have to get out of here."

"Of course, how foolish of me."

Draco bent down and unlocked Percy's wrist from where he had been chained to the wall. "Right now look pathetic," advised the raven haired one of the bunch.

"Shouldn't be too hard," muttered Draco in Harry's ear.

They led their "prisoner" out into the hallway where they met up with the burly Death Eater once more. The silence was thick and tense as they made their way back through the choking world of stone, the very walls seemed to sneer and whisper as they passed.

"I'll let you out the front then," said their inarticulate guide, gesturing through yet another door. The room that they entered was, there was no other way to say it, pleasant. Apart from the grizzly looking Death Eaters that were lounging about, the place was quite cozy. Several puffy chairs and sofas lined the walls and a pot of coffee bubbled merrily on a counter in the corner next to a shiny refrigerator.

"Hey," shouted a voice from the top of a ladder that was propped up against a wall, "We got a letter from the Dark Lord." The voice belonged to a rather scrawny minion of the Dark who jumped down the ladder. "It appears the Malfoy kid no longer works for us, betrayed the Dark Lord, he did."

The big Death Eater nodded thoughtfully at this message, and then stopped dead as he put two and two together. "Wait a second…that's you!" he exclaimed, pointing an accusing finger at the wizard in question.

"Run!" the two imposters yelled simultaneously, dragging the former captive toward the ladder. The room exploded as Death Eaters ran at them, firing curses, Harry ushered Draco and Percy up the ladder then stood in front of the escape, blocking spells as fast as he was firing them off. It seemed like they just might make it when, at the most crucial of moments Percy slipped and tumbled down the ladder. Draco leapt down after him and helped him to his feet.

"_Avada Kedavra_" the spell seemed to come out of nowhere, heading straight for Draco's chest. Instinctively, he whirled about, pulling the red-head in front of him. The spell struck true, missing its original target, but ramming directly into the abdomen of Percy Weasley.

"No!" Harry screamed as his last hope of somehow nullifying the vainness of Ron's death died. Furiously, he grabbed Draco by the back of his robes and dragged him up the ladder, nearly suffocating the other boy in the process. The two pulled themselves up onto the earth and took off running, apparating when they felt they were far enough away.

"What was that!?" screamed Harry once they were safely inside the Order's HQ, practically ripping off his Death Eater robe to expose jeans and a T-shirt that were plastered to his frame with sweat.

"What was what?" Draco yelled back, annoyed.

"You killed him! Damn well bloody killed him!"

"I saved myself! It was just a mission anyway…"

"Just a mission! You could have dodged, you could have-"

"Could have blocked it with my forehead? Sorry, Potter, if not all of us are so talented!"

Harry threw a book at him, Draco ducked and it hit the wall with a crash. "He was not just a mission, he was Ron's brother!"

Draco glared, "Stop venting your own guilt on me! You and I both know there was nothing I could do to prevent it, he would have died soon anyway, did you see how pale he was?" He picked up the book Harry had thrown and sat down to read.

"I'm not! It's not my fault!" Harry shouted.

Draco glared at him, "It was nobody's fault," Harry opened his mouth to protest, sending the blonde's voice skyrocketing, "Stop yelling at me because you feel like you failed!"

The color left the other boy in a flash, his expression became deadly as he turned on his heals and headed outside, slamming the door behind him. Anger pumped flaming through his veins as he took off running into the night, away from the boy he hated most.

A/N: Well, I got this one up in a timely manner. I'm thinking that there will only be one or two more chapters in this story unless I get attacked by a magnificent plot bunny that my friend doesn't steal first (glares at Neon Leprechaun) and I keep it running. Lots of reviews pretty please?


	7. Chapter 7

Disclaimer- "I love him But every day I'm learning All my life I've only been pretending…" –Les Misérables

Warnings- Sad stuff

**Chapter 7**

Harry ran as he had never run before, crashing through the night with no heed to where he was going. Eventually, however, he calmed down and the sheer stupidity of what he had done began to crash over him. He slowed down and stopped, shivering in the moonlit night.

Feelings of guilt began to creep through him. He shouldn't have yelled at Draco like that, it wasn't his fault after all. He started to turn around, ready to rush back and apologize, but something held him back, a slight murmuring in the back of his mind: pride. He was not the sort of person who could just prance back willy-nilly and admit he was wrong, no, he'd wait until morning at least, conquer his dignity and, he though shamelessly, perhaps let Draco worry about him for a bit.

He settled down for the night in a small cave, using his magic to provide for all his needs. Needless to say, it was quite a while before he fell asleep.

He awoke groggily the next morning, vaguely wondering why he was cold and miserable. A moment later memories of the previous night crashed over him as seems to be their irritating habit. Shame tinged with anger caught in his throat and he let out a strangled cry, "Draco…" he whispered, his voice was soft but the name shot through his mind like a fiery brand.

He bolted out of the cave and was mildly surprised to find the sun hadn't risen yet. Sunday. Sunday without sun. He took off in the direction of the cabin, barely thinking. In his muddled haze it took him longer than it might to find the cabin, that could be, though, because it seemed to have turned itself invisible again. When Harry came across the glade at long last, the sun was already poking its head over the horizon in a futile competition with the soupy clouds.

He took out his wand and practically banged on the invisible structure. There was something different about it, however, when it came into view. Its edges were fuzzy and unclear as if Harry was peering at it through a foggy mirror. He tapped it once more, harder and more desperately. Reluctantly it began to come into focus, acting for all the world as if it didn't want to be found.

He burst through the door, Draco's name formed and waiting to fly from his lips. Whatever the boy was expecting, it wasn't the sight that met his shocked green eyes. He let out a strangled cry, his heart aching as it swallowed up Harry's unsaid words.

At the noise Draco looked up from where he had been furiously kissing Ginny on the couch. "Oh," he said in surprise. "It's you." Perhaps if Harry hadn't been so emotional he might have caught the hint of regret that hung, almost invisible, like a spider web over Draco's words.

"Draco…" he whispered, unbelieving. Pain shot through him as the scene began to sink in, as real as anything that had lanced through his scar over the years. The room before him began to blur.

At this point Draco had regained his composure, hardened his heart in the way only he knew how to accomplish, "What's the matter, Potter? You didn't seem too eager for my company last night."

"But we…" Harry stammered, "I…"

"Ginny on the other hand seemed quite keen on my companionship when she showed up after you, ah, departed. She seems to be a lot more accommodating than you and quite a bit more pleasant. Now, speaking of which, would you mind leaving us? You're letting a draft in."

"No, Draco! You can't…" Harry shouted. His heart shattered with every word.

"God, Potter, you're like a broken record. Didn't you hear me? You had your chance and you blew it. You're too late. That's life." With that he went back to an expecting Ginny leaving Harry shut out of his life.

Harry didn't run. He walked away, closing the door behind him. More than anything he wished he was numb, wished he could just block out all the emotion that was threatening to overwhelm him. He half turned back to the door as if expecting Draco to rush out, calling him back and begging forgiveness, but of course he didn't. Reality had struck. Life had made its point.

Later, much later, Harry might realize that he had been a fool to fall so deeply in love with a person who's focuses and desires could change so suddenly, who would abandon him without hardly blinking an eyelid. Perhaps he would finally achieve the ideal apathy and move on, but at the moment the only thought that was in his head, the only sound in his ears were Draco's parting words: "Too late".

A/N: Well, that's it, no more, no happy ending. You can envision one if you would like, I certainly wouldn't object to that, but that's all I'm writing in this story. Just as a side note, 3rd semester junior year has started and I believe it belongs somewhere in the first third of Dante's Divine Comedy. I don't know if this will influence me to write more or less, I guess we'll just have to see. As always, thanks for reading.


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